I Just Couldn't Find The Words...
by Eos-Is-Mah-Muse-157
Summary: Frodo copes with the pain - both emotional and physical - when Sam gets married to Rosie. Slash Warning. ^.^ *Complete*
1. Prelude to Angst

**I Just Couldn't Find The Words...**

     Ten O'clock. Reluctantly, I turn on my computer. I sigh and sit at the keyboard, ready to type. The closet opens and Eos comes timidly into the room. "Anything the matter, hun?" she is obviously worried. 

     I sigh again, trying to hold back the tears and begin typing. "I'm feeling a bit angsty tonight, Eos. Amelia has been cheating on me. It's over now." One tear escapes, but Eos catches it. 

     She gets on her knees and wraps her arms around me as I type. We stay like that for a long time, her wings wrapped protectively around me. I cry the whole time. When I am finished typing, I turn around, forcing a smile. 

     "Thank you, Eos," I say. 

     She smiles sweetly and kisses away my tears. "Glad to help. You get some rest. Don't worry about Amelia. I didn't like her anyway." 

     I laugh a bit and she ruffles my hair. "Goodnight, Eos," I say. She returns home and I click save. 

'.~*~.' 

     He couldn't take it any more. Their moaning and gasps were all too much for him, and he burst from the suffocating hole into the inviting twilight. He sought release from his pain. He needed to feel the physical pain, rather than the emotional pain. In a fit of anger and desperation, his fist came in contact with the boulder again and again. The pain was agonizing, but he could not stop. Blinded by tears he continued, taking out his frustration on his poor hand. His knuckles bled and the rock became stained. Finally he collapsed to the ground and cried silent, empty tears. 

'.~*~.' 

Quick Author's Note ~     Yay! I got the html to work! Also - If you want to know about how Eos became my muse, read "How A-Musing" by me. ^.^ 


	2. Un-funny Jokes

  
     It was Merry who found Frodo. Merry had come to see the newlyweds. But the blood on the boulder next to Bag-end caught his eye before he made it to the door. Alarmed, he looked around. He walked around to the other side of the boulder and found Frodo. He seemed to be delirious, sitting against the rock, numbly sucking on bruised and bloodied knuckles.   
     "Frodo!" he cried. "Oh, dear Frodo what have you done?" Merry knelt to his side, noting Frodo's bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks. He cradled his friend in his arms, asking over and over what had happened.   
     Frodo continued to nurse his wound, unaffected by Merry's concern. He stared into space, unable to grasp the events of the evening before, desperately seeking a way to sort them out. Merry stood and struggled to lift Frodo into his arms so he could carry him.   
     "We must get you some help." Merry's voice was strained and he blinked back the tears in an attempt to stay strong for the former ring bearer. This was not the first time. He had seen Frodo like this before. He knew what it meant.   
     Frodo seemed to come back to life, and struggled in Merry's arms. Merry was so surprised that he dropped his friend. Frodo stood up hurriedly and pleaded with Merry.   
     "Oh, dear Merry, you mustn't tell anyone of this," he babbled. "Especially Sam. If Sam ever found out he would be utterly heartbroken." Tears were streaming down his cheeks now.   
     Merry swallowed thickly. He removed a handkerchief from his pocket and gently wrapped Frodo's injured hand. Merry tried hard to ignore the fact that the hand only had four fingers. "This is not the first time you have done this, Frodo," he said. He held both of Frodo's hands within his own and looked to his friend pleadingly. "You must tell Sam. This cannot continue... Pippin and I can keep this a secret for only so long."   
     Frodo hugged Merry. "Oh, Merry, I am so sorry for burdening you. I will tell Sam, I promise. Just... Not now. Please, Merry. I need more time to find a way to say it."   
     Merry returned the hug. He had heard this speech before. He was sure now, more than ever, that Frodo was lying. Frodo pulled back, smiling widely at Merry. He wiped away his tears as if none of the morning's events had ever occurred. In Frodo's mind, they hadn't. He had blacked them out already. As far as he was concerned, he was inviting a close friend inside for breakfast.   
     Frodo let Merry inside and led him to the kitchen. Merry sat at the table, obviously unnerved. This is what he and Pip had come to call Frodo's "jovial" phase. It was how Frodo acted after he had hurt himself. He would pretend as if nothing has happened and he would act more cheerful than usual.   
     Frodo hummed a happy tune as he set about preparing breakfast. He started to peel some potatoes over the sink basin, making small talk with Merry. Merry played along, although inside he knew that this time Frodo's reason for inflicting pain upon himself was deeper than before. It was evident that he had broken one of his fingers. What's more is that it was a finger on his bad hand. Frodo had especially babied that hand since their return from Mordor. Merry became aware of a presence at the door. The figure yawned loudly and stretched before stepping into the room. Frodo froze for a moment, but continued to peel.   
     This was his reason for torture. "Good morning, Frodo, Meriadoc," chirped Rose Gamgee. "Lovely morning, isn't it?" Merry nodded smugly, trying to remember that Sam loved her. Rose glided over to the pot, pouring herself a cup of coffee. Both Merry and Frodo noticed she was wearing Sam's bathrobe. It didn't seem like she was wearing much else. Frodo fixed his eyes on the potato, peeling much more forcefully. Rosie took a long gulp of coffee and stretched again. "Did you sleep nicely, Frodo?" she asked.   
     Frodo seemed to jump at the question and gave a yelp. His hand had slipped and the potato was now in the basin. At the sight of blood, Merry and Rose rushed to Frodo's side. Merry cradled Frodo's hand, pressing his napkin to the wound. Frodo had chopped off a nice portion of the top of his broken finger. He grimaced at the touch of the linen and gave Merry an apologetic look.   
     "You should be more careful, Frodo," Rosie chided. "Pretty soon you aren't going to have any fingers at all!" She laughed at her joke. Frodo did not. 

'.~*~.' 


	3. 'Till Death Do Us Part

     Frodo lay in his bed, curled into a fetal position. He shook violently, containing the tears inside of him. Images of the wedding flashed through his mind.   
     It was but yesterday, though it felt like it were years ago. He sat at the back, next to Pippin. In the lap of every creature in attendance sat glass globes of different sizes. Inside the globes, their gifts to the married were contained, an elfish custom at weddings. Sam had been sure that his wedding was as elfish as possible. Frodo had held back his anguish, trying his hardest to ignore the Thain... 

     _   
_

     "Do you, Samwise Gamgee, declare your undying love," 

     A tear escaped, slithering lazily down Frodo's cheek and he clutched the globe in his lap. 

     "and your unwavering loyalty," 

     He squeezed tighter now, and more tears escaped the blockade. 

     "to Rose Cotton and that you will forever bind your soul with love," 

     The glass cracked. 

     "to her." 

     Pippin heard the small "pop," and no one else. He looked over to Frodo. Frodo was looking forward, face emotionless. 

     Sam smiled at Rosie. "I do," he said. 

     The glass lay broken in Frodo's lap and a few shards poked from between his fingers that had been balled into tight fists. The blood was thick and it oozed from between the digits. 

     "Frodo!" Pippin gasped quietly. 

     Detached, Frodo opened his hands and looked down at them. "Oh, my!" he mumbled. "I must have broken my present. What a shame..." Frodo was slipping into his "bewildered" phase. 

     Pippin sighed and silently thanked the fact that they sat in the back. Frodo brushed off his lap absent-mindedly, glass falling to the ground without sound. Amongst the debris lay the silver chain that was to be his gift to Samwise and Rose, the very same necklace he had worn into Mordor and back. Pippin led his dazed cousin back to Bag-end, unnoticed by the wedding party. He sat Frodo in his favorite chair and ran to get some water. The spell now broken, Frodo realized what he had done and he wept into bloody hands. Only did he stop when the familiar presence of an old friend was near, and comforting arms around him. 

     Pippin returned with the basin only to be surprised at the unexpected guest. 

     "Legolas!" Pippin exclaimed. "What are you doing here?!" Legolas stood (as best he could in the small dwelling) and laughed quietly. 

     "Master Peregrin, you don't mean to tell me you were the only one to hear the sound of Sir Frodo's heart breaking? I am an elf, Pippin. You seem to have forgotten my sense of hearing." He turned back to Frodo, who was entering his "panic" stage, although it always wore off quickly. 

     "Oh, dear Legolas!" Frodo exclaimed, jumping from his chair. "I am so sorry to worry you. It was just an accident, really. I was holding Sam's present a bit too tightly and I'm afraid that the excitement of such an important event was just too much for me to handle at once." 

     Legolas nodded solemnly and kneeled on the floor in front of Frodo. Pippin placed the basin next to the elf and joined him in front of his cousin. Together, the Elf and the hobbit washed Frodo's face and bathed his wounds. Fresh bandages were wrapped around the deep gashes. Upon doing this, Legolas noticed an exceptionally large wound in Frodo's side that had not yet healed. 

     "The engagement..." Frodo explained weakly. 

     That too was cleaned and re-dressed. Legolas and Pippin decided that Pippin should return to the wedding as not to raise suspicion. Pippin wanted to go so he could tell Merry what had happened. Once Pippin was gone, Legolas sat by the fire with Frodo. The sun was setting and faint sounds of music and laughing could be heard from somewhere far away... 

     There was silence for a long time, but Legolas was the first to speak. 

     "You must be honest with your feelings, sir hobbit," he said. 

     Frodo kept his eyes on the fire, sucking on his pipe slowly. "What good will it do? Sam is married now, married to Rosie. It is very uncommon, feeling this way. And it is seldom embraced by the people of Hobbiton. The only thing there is to do is embrace the pain." 

     The elf laughed loudly. "Embrace it? My old friend you are embracing a dagger rather than love. This is not the way to "embrace" the pain of unrequited love." His voice became bitter. "There is no way to embrace it..." 

     Frodo seemed confused. "I am only taking my mind off of one pain with another." 

     Legolas shook his head. "This is still the improper way to live." 

     Frodo scoffed. "What would an elf know about such matters?" 

     Legolas bowed his head and pulled up the left sleeve of his tunic. There was a large scar that seared up the length of his arm. Frodo could tell that it had once been deep. He looked questioningly at the prince of Mirkwood. Legolas sighed. 

     "You are not the only one who has loved and lost, Frodo," he spoke quietly, replacing the fabric of the tunic back over the offending mark. "I may have told Aragorn of my feelings all too late, but he knows my feelings for him. And I in return. Whilst we feel a mutual passion, he is bound to Arwen, and he loves her, like Sam loves Rose." The elf breathed in a deep sigh. "But my soul is bared and the pain has been lifted, strangely enough. I know that one day I will love again. It may not be as deep as my love for the mortal king, but I will love once more. You will too, Frodo Baggins." 

     With that the subject was closed and the two sat by the fire, talking of days long since passed under a good pipe until the newlyweds returned to Bag-end. 

'.~*~.' 

Quick Author's Note ~     Ok, to begin - I don't know a thing about elvish weddings (if such information exists). If I'm totally off, please tell me. Also, the Thain is the oldest hobbit, right? I thought I read that somewhere. I didn't know if they had priests in the Shire (I didn't think they had religion, period) and I figured the oldest (or wisest) hobbit would be the one to join two hobbits in wedlock. Also - flashbacks are in italics (if you couldn't tell). 


	4. You Used To Love Me...

     There was a knock at Frodo's bedroom door. It was Pippin.   
     "Frodo..." he began, "Merry and I made you a nice warm bath." He tried desperately to sound cheery. "C'mon, what do you say? It will be nice to relax in some nice hot water, do you a bit of good."   
     Frodo nodded and went into the bathrooms. He undressed slowly, being extra careful of his wounds and cuts. The water was almost like heaven. He felt like he was in Lothlórien again, in Sam's arms again... It had happened, yes, while they were in Lórien. Sam had become restless and wandered off for some water one night. It was dark, oddly enough, in their sleeping quarters, and Sam had roused Frodo when returning to his own bed, right next to his master's. 

  


_ "What's the matter, Sam? Couldn't you sleep?" Frodo asked. _

     Sam situated himself under the blanket and laid his head on the pillow, facing Frodo. "I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo, didn't mean to wake you. I was thirsty, is all." 

     Frodo smiled back at Sam. It was a warm and friendly smile, and he snuggled into his pillow as he did this. "I've been thinking a lot, Sam," he said. The singing of the elves could be heard softly, almost far away. 

     "What about, sir?" Sam inquired. 

     Frodo sighed heavily and turned on his back, arms behind his head. "About Gandalf. I miss him terribly. Can this really be the end, Sam? Can Gandalf really be gone? Such a life he has lead. To be taken down by a hole seems almost too easy." 

     Sam sighed and mimicked Frodo's actions. "I'm not sure, Mr. Frodo. It sure makes me sad, though, to see him go like that. If anything he should have went lying in a comfortable bed amongst those he loves. I prefer the peaceful way. 'Eases the heart a bit more', the Gaffer used to say." 

     Frodo laughed quietly. The ring-bearer found himself quite attracted to Sam's bumbling manner, his loyalty, and above all else - his heart. There had always been something special about the master Samwise, something Frodo often found himself admiring. He propped himself up on his elbow so he could look down upon the face of his friend. Sam smiled at Frodo weakly, trying to fight off sleep but loosing. It was in this moment that Frodo realized that Sam was very beautiful. Sam had such a sweet and angelic face that always seemed to be radiant. 

     Sam's eyes had closed; finally giving into powers he could not contend with. Frodo smiled and brushed a lock of Sam's hair back into place and found his hand lingering upon a rosy cheek. Not believing that he was actually doing what he was doing, he stroked the soft skin gently. Sam stirred and Frodo sought to pull back. His hand was retrained, however. Sam had taken his masters hand into his own and was tenderly nuzzling it. 

     Enchanted, Frodo let his friend continue and he drew in a sharp breath once he felt Sam's soft lips upon the calloused skin. Sam looked to Frodo questioningly but Frodo only smiled. 

     "Frodo-" he began. 

     The hobbit shook his head. "There is no need for words here, Sam." With that he leaned forward, lightly brushing his lips against Sam's. The slight contact was electrifying, and the kiss deepened. Frodo ran his hands through Sam's silky curls, getting them lost in a sea of gold. A tongue cautiously crept forward, seeking access. The two engaged, passion growing, probing and tasting, gasping and groaning. Excitement rose and emotions exploded. They shared their love with each other in a flash of pleasure and pain. 

     When it was all over, Sam held his master in his arms, stroking the curly auburn locks. "I love you, Frodo," he whispered. 

     Frodo yawned and snuggled closer into Sam's warmth. They lay entwined, A Lament for Gandalf_ lulling them to sleep. _

'.~*~.' 

Quick Author's Note ~     Sorry for all of you who were looking for a lemon, but I'm not going to jump at the chance to write a male/male sex scene (being a lesbian and all)... at least you *know* they did it... heh *evil grin*... 


	5. Hush Little Baby

  
     Things became peaceful for quite some time. After Frodo's 'potato incident', it seemed to Merry and Pippin that their friend was learning to cope; or he had told Sam. They wanted desperately to believe that Frodo had told Sam how he felt after all this time, finally ending this madness. But they knew that was less than likely. There may be a scratch here and there every once in a while, but nothing too serious. Frodo spent a lot of time writing, about his journey to Mordor and about the One Ring, so no one saw him much anyway. Sometimes his wound made by the Nazgul would ail him, and everyone was at his side the whole time. That seemed to be the only thing that was hurting Frodo.   
     But when Rose announced her pregnancy, things changed. Frodo got worse, much worse. The scratches would be more frequent. With the progression of the child, the scratches turned to wounds that seemed to get deeper and deeper. When the child was born, they had named her Elanor, as suggested by Frodo. One evening, Frodo had taken Elanor outside to stop her from crying. Poor Sam and Rosie hadn't a wink of sleep for days. Frodo had now suffered, for Elanor's bawling was not easily heard in his study.   
     He held the baby close to his chest and rocked her gently, crickets chirping all around. Merry and Pippin had been on their way home from the inn when they spotted Frodo.   
     Merry nudged his companion. "Hey Pip, you see that?" he whispered.   
     Pippin squinted a bit and leaned forward. He had a bit too much to drink. "What is it?" Pippin whispered back.   
     Merry watched, understanding in his eyes. "It's Frodo," he answered. "He's lullin' Elanor lass to sleep."   
     Pippin smiled sweetly. "Ya see that, Merry? I always knew our good old Frodo didn't resent Rosie... or the baby for that matter." He tilted his head a bit, wobbling slightly. "I think who he really resented was himself." He looked questioningly at Merry. "Think that's why he hurts himself so much?"   
     Merry shushed Pippin. He was talking a bit too loudly. But then Pippin stumbled and Merry caught him and Merry could not help but to laugh. "You know, Pip, I think you are smarter when you're drunken then when you aren't."   
     Pippin laughed too, not registering the insult. The two continued along, leaving Frodo to his endeavor. 

'.~*~.' 

Quick Author's Note ~     Well, I know it's short... but it's just a teensy transition until the story picks up again. I should have the next chapter up really soon. Thanks to all who have been leaving reviews. I love getting them! Keep'em coming! Writers love feedback... it's how we get by - lol. ^.^ 


	6. It's About Time!

  
     It was a gloomy day when Frodo decided to announce his departure. He called Sam into his study first, giving Sam his diary among a few other legal documents to cover the formalities. By this time, night had befallen The Shire, and a fire burned brightly in the hearth.   
     Sam moved to leave his master in peace, but Frodo stopped him.   
     "Wait," he said. "I have one more thing."   
     "Yes, master Frodo?"   
     Frodo sighed, and bent over the table against the far wall, trying to find the perfect way to say it, the perfect way to tell him. He turned, but something was amiss. Pain seared up his arm and he felt the warm sticky fluid on his skin. A fairly new wound had re-opened. Sam gave a small cry and helped his master to a chair.   
     Frodo grimaced as Sam pulled up his sleeve, revealing the crude bandage. Sam was astonished. "I had no idea your wound would bleed, Mr. Frodo. I thought the poison only affected you on the inside?"   
     Frodo sighed heavily, hanging his head in shame. "It is not the Nazgûl wound." Sam looked up in alarm. "I inflicted the wound upon myself, dear Sam."   
     "Why? Why would you do such a thing, Frodo?" Sam asked, his voice full of pain.   
     Frodo was close to tears. He did not want Sam to know, at least not like this. "For many reasons, my beloved Sam. I could not cope with the pain in my heart and I needed distraction..."   
     Sam could not believe what he was hearing and backed away, trying to pretend he had not heard the words from his master's lips.   
     "I became angry with myself, Sam," Frodo continued.   
     Sam covered his ears and sat on the floor, trying to keep the words away.   
     "I hated myself. I hated myself for not being able to tell you, for being such a coward," Frodo spoke gently.   
     Frodo joined Sam on the floor. He saw now that Sam was crying. "Oh, Mr. Frodo, I never meant to cause you any pain. I didn't want for it to be like this."   
     Frodo pressed a finger to Sam's lips. "It is of my own fault, Samwise. Not yours." His mouth opened to continue, but he could not and he looked away in shame. It was foolish to think that Sam still loved him. So many times had Sam confessed his feelings, only to be met with a kiss or the squeeze of a hand. Frodo had been unfair and selfish, catering to his own fears with disregard of his love's need.   
     Frodo looked over and decided to try again. He stared into Sam's eyes, searching for a trace of what he had seen in Lórien, what he had seen through Mordor, on the edge of Mt. Doom. Sam looked back at him, oblivious to what his master was trying to do. A hand reached out to caress the gardener's face and he met it willingly, clasping it to his face.   
     Frodo moved over, closer to Sam. He continued to stare, his other hand now caressing the other cheek. It was there, the feeling, the spark. He knew it was there, for it had never left. He wanted to cry out - in anger towards himself for being blind or in joy that his Sam still loved him - he could not decide. Instead, he closed the distance between himself and the other hobbit, pressing his lips desperately to Sam's.   
     Sam reached his arms around Frodo, pulling their bodies together. He did not seem surprised at all. It was almost as if he was anticipating this kiss, this connection of their souls.   
     They battled for domination over the mouth of the other, knowing that there were no losers in this game, not this time. Passion intensified and emotions were once again exposed. Sam found himself reaching to remove the tunic of his lover, but his hands were gently pushed away, Frodo breaking the kiss at the same moment. Sam looked questioningly to his master.   
     Frodo only shook his head. "We cannot allow this continue. I should have not done that. I am sorry Sam."   
     Sam became even more puzzled and a bit hurt. "I do not understand, Mr. Frodo."   
     Frodo gazed deep into the eyes of the one he loved. He stroked Sam's cheek. "I have never once told you. Through all of our years together you have been the only one to say it and I remained mute. No more, Sam. No more." He drew in a deep breath, unsure if he could continue. Sam waited, like he had all along, doubting this time would be different than the others. Sam knew Frodo would often try to express his feelings, but Frodo was just too afraid. The former ring bearer leaned forward once again, his lips barely brushing Sam's. He spoke, voice barely above a whisper.   
     "I love you, Samwise Gamge."   
     The tears came that instant and their lips met once again, crickets chirping all around. 

'.~*~.' 

Quick Author's Note ~     Whew! That took long enough, huh? Sorry about that. ^.^ I'm still not done yet! One more chapter! I just have to read the end of the third part 248587 more times until I can write the final piece. *evil grin* Thank you all for reading! 


	7. Many Partings

     Not long after they set out for the Grey Havens, spirits mellow. He and Sam did not talk much of the night Frodo finally confessed his love, for there was nothing to say. Sam was married to Rose. They had a child and they loved each other. To say Sam was torn would be an understatement. On the second night of their journey west, Sam addressed Frodo while cooking dinner.   
     "Frodo," he began, idly poking at the sausage on the pan in his hand. He signed heavily. "Why is it you never told me before? I mean, if I had been sure, I would not have allowed myself to fall in love with Rosie."   
     Frodo laughed, bitter. "You would have fallen in love anyways. We cannot chose whom our hearts belong to..." He looked to the stars. "We can merely follow what our hearts say." He looked at Sam. "Besides, we will be together again, one day."   
     Their conversation was light for the rest of the evening. They fell asleep by a burning fire, Sam holding Frodo in his arms, both cherishing the time they were together for it was growing scarce. Rosie was hardly in the minds of either of them, not wanting to be reminded of the complications in their lives.   
     And when at last they came to The Havens in the company of Elrond and Galadriel and Gandalf and Bilbo, Frodo kissed his three closest friends goodbye, Sam last of all. As Frodo embraced his Sam for what could very possibly be the last time, Sam whispered into his ear.   
     "Please, Mr. Frodo, I want to hear it one last time."   
     Amidst his tears, Frodo smiled. "I love you, Sam," he whispered.   
     Sam could only watch as the ship took his Frodo away from him. Merry and Pippin stood at his side, knowing all has been repaired. When the sun was no longer present, and the moon had come out to play across the water, Sam turned to his companions.   
     "Do you think I will ever see him again?" Sam asked.   
     Merry smiled at Pippin and patted Sam on the back, the three of them heading towards their horses. "Of course you will, Sam. One day. You will join the other ring bearers when the time comes. But for now, you have Rosie and Elanor-lass to tend to."   
     Sam breathed in a deep breath. He knew in his heart that he would see Frodo again, and besides, he loved Rose and he loved Elanor. He would never dream of abandoning them. He took one last look at the sea, knowing this would not be the last time he saw it. Mounting Bill, he looked over to Merry and Pippin, smiling. "Let's go home."   
     Frodo watched, Bilbo behind him, a hand on his shoulder, the figure of Sam and Merry and Pippin on the water's edge. Their silhouettes seemed lonely, the sea breeze offering no comfort. Suddenly, he noticed something. The pain was gone. His final burden had been lifted. And with a sigh of contentment, he turned towards the members of the crew, smiling, anticipating the adventures to come.   
    

*** 

_1482 -     Death of Mistress Rose, wife of Master Samwise, On Mid-year's Day. On September 22 Master Samwise rides out from Bag End. He comes to the Tower Hills, and is last seen by Elanor, to whom he gives the Red Book afterwards kept by the Fairbairns. Among them the tradition is handed down from Elanor that Samwise passed the Towers, and went to Grey Havens, and passed over the Sea, last of the Ring-bearers.
_

'.~*~.' 

Quick Author's Note ~     Well, that's it! I hope you enjoyed the story. Oh - the last paragraph is from the book - just thought I would give a bit of closure on that (for those of you who haven't discovered the handy-dandy timeline at the back of the RoTK. Thank you all so much for reading! Reviews always welcome! ^.^ Also - thank you to those of you who left reviews. They were really encouraging and made me feel a bit better about my work. Thanks all around. 

As always, special shout outs and thanks to my friends, the people who inspire me and make me get up when I'm feeling down. ^.^ 

(Damnit! The Russians lost to the Americans!) Yachy 

(Oh dear god, get your hands out of my pants!) Nsync Lover *gag* 

(BITH baaad... heh ^.^ SIR IAN ROCKS!) Elizabeth A. (one pseudonym to another) 

(Who's my creampuff?) Shortums (I am...) 

(Theresa doesn't believe in you) God 

(I want Chinese food) Jojo 

(Suki da ... Oooo - post-it notes) Onii-chan 

(Hey! You _are_ in the corner!) Sayjin Pride 

End Of The Story Quote ~ 

Pippin: *tugging on Boromir's sleeve* Boromir! Boromir! Merry says that whenever Legolas flips his hair, another fangirl faints. 

Merry: *nods vehemently* 

Legolas: *flips hair* 

Aragorn: *faints* 

Pippin, Merry and Boromir: o.O;;; 


End file.
